


We Do Share a More Profound Bond

by My_OTP_is_Better



Series: Because We're Family [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Castiel in the Bunker, Condoms, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean in Panties, Domestic Castiel, Domestic Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Feelings, Fingerfucking, Human Castiel, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, John Winchester's Bad Parenting, Large Cock, M/M, Sam hates p.d.a., Season/Series 09, Slice of Life, Suicidal Thoughts, Switching, Top Castiel, Top Dean, briefly, discussions about sex, minor crack, realistic reactions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-17 11:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1385950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_OTP_is_Better/pseuds/My_OTP_is_Better
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester and (newly-human) Castiel continue life in the bunker. As they navigate the bumps in the road of their relationship, Sam and Kevin just try to stay out of their way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Never let me go

**Author's Note:**

> Usual Disclaimer: Kripke et. al own "Supernatural" and all characters. Products/ brands mentioned are not for endorsement purposes, and are registered trademarks.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shameless smut and a bit of bitch-face. Angst near the end (check tags for warnings/triggers).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is taken from the title of a song by Florence + The Machine. I highly suggest listening to said song, and/or the Ceremonials CD in general, as there are a few Destiel parallels.

   Time passed for the two quickly: Cas was finally learning to settle into this human thing, and he spent his days honing his skills as a hunter. While the Winchesters didn’t take him hunting often, when they did, they didn’t regret it. And if he spent his days trying to be a better hunter, he definitely spent his nights trying to be a better lover.

_“More!”_ he moaned, as Dean bore down on him. Dean yanked on his brown hair, fingers tangling in the nape as he forced his head to the side. He leaned down and bit Cas’ neck, leaving a dark red mark. The stark contrast of pain to pleasure made him twitch and shudder. In one swift motion Dean grabbed him in his arms, lifted him off his back and hoisted him onto his lap. Cas’ knees went out to stabilize himself and Dean leaned slightly back, letting himself be straddled. Cas sunk down as low as he could go, reveling in the feeling of being filled. Dean reached forward and tightened his grip in his hair and Cas gave a loud yelp at the sensation.

   Dean’s face broke out into a grin, his eyes flicking from his panting lips to his trembling frame. He leaned up on his elbow, remarking, “You’re so good for me, baby.” He knew he wanted to hear more, and he rolled his hips in a particularly sinuous way as he spoke: “Nothing else feels this amazing.” As Cas’ hips undulated in response he let out a moan, almost missing the sharp gasp Cas gave when he brushed against his prostate. “When you straddle my big cock, and I stretch out your tight little ass, I wanna cum right away.” He felt Cas clench around him, and he let out a groan. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? If I came inside you, left you sloppy and wet.”

   He kissed along Cas’ collarbone, listening to the shuddering breaths above him. Cas made a noise at the back of his throat that sounded like a whimper as Dean pinched one of his nipples, then the other. He smiled a little, and shifted his hips to hit Cas’ prostate again. Cas gave a rough moan, a sign he was on the edge. Dean grabbed his hips, fingertips sinking into the firm flesh there, as he purred, “Cum with me, baby.”

   Cas lifted his hips a few more times before his body shuddered, then snapped tight. Digging his nails into his back, he shouted, _“Dean!”_ His cock pulsed as he came between their stomachs.

_“Uhn, Cas!”_ Dean moaned loudly, holding him tight. His hands wrapped around the small of Cas’ back, and pulled him closer as his own orgasm ripped through him: his hips stuttered and came to a halt, buried deep inside Cas’ ass. He felt Cas clench down on him as he came, white-hot heat bathing his insides. Dean held him tight as small moans tumbled from his lips.

   Then, in a reversal of the previous action he leaned down, laying Cas onto his back. He took a minute to stroke Cas’ cheek before he leaned back and slowly pulled out. He watched as Cas’ hole fluttered close, a slick sheen of lube and cum coating the opening. He flopped down on his back and Cas curled into his side, nuzzling his jaw along Dean’s shoulder. Contentedly, he murmured into Dean’s ear, “I love you, Dean.”

   He started, jostling him for a moment before Cas burrowed back against his neck. “I know you do, baby,” he replied, grabbing his hand and twining their fingers together. He kissed the side of Cas’ head and took a deep breath to relax.

   It was the best he could do, and Cas knew that. He promised Dean that it was okay; that he’d waited two millennia just to _meet_ him. He could wait until Dean was ready to say it.

   They fell asleep in Dean’s bed just like that: Dean laying on his back, with Cas tucked into his right side, his ear against Dean’s chest to listen to his heartbeat.

                                                                                           _________

   The next morning, Dean was in the kitchen cooking breakfast when Sam wandered in. He bitch-faced his older brother while he got a cup of coffee. “What’s wrong with you?” Dean asked, pushing an egg-white omelet onto Sam’s plate.

   Sam sipped his coffee for a moment before answering: “Oh nothing, just some jerk and his boyfriend keeping me up ‘til 3 a.m. with the sounds of noisy man-love.”

   “I bought you those noise-cancelling headphones for a reason, Sammy. Use ‘em.”

   “They’re. Defective. How many times do I have to tell you?”

   “Don’t tell me, bitch. Tell Best-Buy.” He opened a drawer nearby and rooted around. When he found his wallet, he fished for the card he’d used and the receipt. “Here - and make sure they work this time.” Sam sighed irritably, but was soon silenced by the awesomeness that was his breakfast.

   Kevin stumbled in sometime later, murmuring how prophecy and rum didn’t mix. He made himself a cup of coffee, and Dean pushed sunny-side-up eggs onto his plate, completing the smiley face he’d made with bacon and hash browns. He tried to smile down at his plate, knowing it wasn’t every day that Dean went to extra effort, but he looked green. He sipped his coffee slowly and eyed Sam confusedly. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked, picking at his hash browns. Sam just pointed at Dean, and Kevin nodded knowingly. “You know, you could just move into the bedroom near mine. Or the one near the dungeon.”

   “Those are half as big,” Sam mumbled, and Dean gestured pointedly to the receipt. Sam pocketed it and the card as Cas staggered in. He got coffee and sat down at the empty seat, which Dean had outfitted with a pillow. He arranged himself gingerly as Dean plated up his breakfast.

   Sam and Kevin gave each other an amused look – this went on at least once a week: Dean would wake up earlier than anyone else and make everyone’s favorites; Cas would inevitably follow later, looking (or feeling) like he’d had sex with a storm instead of a person. His clothes would be skewed, his hair disheveled, and his exposed skin would show a spread of bruises and scratches. Once he’d found a comfortable position at the table, he’d look at Dean with this intense look of adoration and desire.

 

   It hadn’t always been like this. After their first time, Cas had been very quiet and discreet, although Dean was virtually the same. But the others caught on quickly, realizing the two were making up for lost time, so now Cas didn’t care.

   That was the thing about Cas – if, as an angel he failed to grasp the social intricacies of humanity, as a human now himself he failed to care about anything approaching decency or manners. And that was something that Dean needed – someone who wouldn’t care if he talked with his mouth full or over-shared, since Cas did the same and then some.

   It was funny how easily the four of them fell into a routine. When Sam and Dean had brought Cas back to the bunker, it had been rough. Both Kevin and Sam remained on guard around him, fearing fallout from the disaster he’d (inadvertently) caused. Dean however, hovered protectively around the former-angel. Given this, it wasn’t surprising that he’d been the only one to see the signs: Cas became unresponsive, quieter. He went to sleep earlier, and woke later. He sought out privacy and drew back from Dean.

   Soon after, Dean caught him in his bedroom trying to down a bottle of whiskey in one go. Considering his tolerance was comparable to a 90 lb. girl’s these days, he ran in and wrenched it away. _“You’ve had enough,”_ Dean snapped.

   “ _No_ ,” he disagreed, words slightly slurring. “Gotta fix it…”

   “Fix what?”

   “Angels… falling, heaven. _I_ was the catalyst. If I die, spell’s power goes.”

   “WHAT? Who the _hell_ told you that?”

   “Angels, reaper. I’m no use without my powers…”

   “No Cas, _you’re no use to us dead_.” He sighed, his jaw trembling. “Come on, man… I need you.”

   Cas just slumped over, his head in his hands. Before either of them had a chance to say anything else, he started crying. Dean sat on the bed next to Cas, and rubbed his back. Neither of them spoke for a long time, Cas quietly sobbing into his hands. When his eyes finally dried, Dean simply asked, “Okay?”

   “Okay,” Cas responded in answer, a promise.

                                                                                              _________________


	2. Touch that Doesn't Corrupt

   Once Cas realized he wasn’t going anywhere, he began to acclimatize to human life. It was at once infuriating and hilarious: Cas would walk out of the shower naked, or peruse the nudie mags in Dean’s bedroom among other, less-notable shenanigans.

 

   “Cas?! Put on some clothes!” Sam screeched, dropping the remote onto the table, his eyes wide at the sight of the naked, dripping man before him.

   “Why? We all possess the same parts. The human body isn’t shameful.”

   Kevin walked into the living room and nearly dropped the bowl of popcorn he was carrying. “Um… do you two need some privacy?”

   Sam turned bright red at this and his eyes widened even further. “No, _no_. It’s not like that!”

   Cas squinted at Kevin, completely unaffected by the younger Winchester's flustered entreaties: “I am not making sexual overtures to him, no.”

   Dean strode into the room and stopped dead in his tracks. Castiel was standing naked in _their_ living room when they were _supposed_ to be watching “Die Hard”. “CAS!” Dean yelled threateningly.

   Cas turned around, the same narrow-eyed look now focused on his freckled face. Dean’s mouth went dry temporarily as he dragged his eyes down the brunette’s body much more slowly than he'd care to admit. His cock gave a twitch of interest, but he forced himself to look away from the sculpted abs, the muscular legs, the thick - _No_. He had to get himself together; he cleared his throat and took a sip of beer.

   “Put some damn clothes on!” Cas looked back at him defiantly, his jaw set with an air that said _Make_ _me_.He could feel himself hardening in his jeans, and had to do something quick.

   “You’re making everyone else uncomfortable, man,” he nearly pleaded, unable to meet his piercing gaze. By this point, Kevin had recovered enough mobility to join Sam on the couch, and Cas stood with his back to the both of them. Luckily, all the boys could see of the conversation was Dean’s slowly-blushing face.

   “Everyone?” Cas repeated, a knowing look in his eyes.

   Dean took another sip of his beer, and replied without full conviction, “ _YES. Go_.” With that, he left the room. Ever since, he came out of the shower room in a towel en route to his room.

 

   “Cas, what the hell?!” He lay on his stomach, casually thumbing through a copy of _Busty Asian Beauties_ on Dean’s bed.

   “This is a niche market. Asian woman are not as ample as this generally.” Dean marched up to the bed and yanked the magazine from his hands.

   “Get your own porn, Cas. We’re not in junior high _– no sharing_.” Cas grumbled something about hypocrisy and left the room.

                                                                        ___________

  Sam emerged into the bunker triumphant, holding a new pair of noise-cancelling headphones. And it was none too soon, as Castiel and Dean were holed up in Dean’s room, stripped down to underwear. Castiel lay on top of Dean, rutting into him. “Dean,” he started, and it took the other a few minutes to realize he was supposed to answer.

   “Yeah?” he panted, reaching for the waistband of Cas’ boxers.

   “Want to … switch. Wanna fuck you…” he answered, breathless.

   “ _Again_? Aren’t you tired?” Dean asked incredulously.

   Cas leaned back onto his knees, grabbing Dean’s thighs and parting his legs. He stroked Dean a few times over the pair of panties he was wearing. His hand trailed down, until his finger brushed over his hole. “ _I_ want to fuck _you_ , Dean.” Dean clenched reflexively.

   “We’ll talk tonight, promise,” he murmured against Cas’ ear. He scooted down under Cas, and wrapped his lips around his cock…

 

   “Dean, have you thought about it?” he asked as they lay in bed that night, sated after steaks and “Top Gun”.

   “Yeah, it’s just… Cas, you’re an inch bigger than me.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hold the former-angel’s gaze.

   “I thought the discrepancy didn’t bother you?” Cas knew this was often a sore spot for most human males, but he thought he’d found one not quite as shallow.

   “It doesn’t. No, what I mean is, don’t you think that will hurt? How am I supposed to take an eight inch cock?”

   Cas grinned slyly, and rubbed his arm soothingly. “By practicing, of course,” he answered matter-of-factly. “Prep you, work you open… like you did with me.” Dean’s shoulders unbunched. Cas kissed his neck and added seductively, “I’ll give you as much time as you need. I want you to _like_ it, _to want it_ …”

   He shivered in anticipation and answered, “Okay. Tomorrow, we’ll… practice.”

   Cas smiled and kissed his neck. “Thank you, Dean.”

                                                                                             ______

   After another visit to the porn shop, they sat on Dean’s bed looking over their cache of lube and condoms. “You sure this stuff’s the best?” he asked, turning the bottle over in his hands.

   “It’s what feels the best to me.” He looked through the lube packets, and then turned his eyes to the pile of rubbers. “Why do we have so many of these?”

   “Better safe than sorry. I know we get tested all the time, but we also get stabbed and bitten all the time.”

   “But Dean, we don’t use them _all_ the time.”

   “Well, no one’s perfect… Let me tell them they’re on their own for dinner and shower.” He reached the door and turned, gesturing to the bed. “You can take care of this.”

   After his shower, he locked the door behind him and strode over to the bed. “I told them if they knocked on the door, I’d break their fingers. They probably think I’m doing something kinky to you.” Cas shrugged and pulled on the towel covering Dean’s hips. As it slid down his skin revealing his naked form, Cas’ eyes darkened and he licked his lips. He grabbed Dean’s wrist and pulled him onto the bed. After kissing for awhile, Cas pulled back.

   “Are you okay?”

   “Yeah,” Dean answered, and got onto his knees.

   “If it hurts, tell me.” Cas opened the bottle of lube and caressed his skin gently. He got a finger wet and trailed it down until he got to his entrance. He paused to lube up the finger more, and asked Dean to breathe.

   He circled around the muscle for a minute, and then began to push in. He went slowly, only pushing in on Dean’s exhales, and rubbed Dean’s side soothingly. Once he managed to get it all the way in he waited, listening to Dean’s breathing. It was shaky and when he reached between his legs, he noticed Dean had gone soft. “Dean, how does it feel?”

   “J - Just move.”

   Cas began to move the finger in and out, stroking Dean back to hardness with the other hand. After awhile, he began to feel along the inside wall, listening raptly to Dean’s reactions. He felt Dean’s cock twitch suddenly, and he slid the finger back over the spot. It twitched again and his hole clenched. After a deep breath, Cas could move again.

   “You’re so damn hot,” Cas praised, slowly drawing his finger out. “Can you handle more?” Dean nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He lubed two fingers up and slowly worked them in. He stilled, stroking Dean’s cock until he relaxed. He moved in and out slowly, feeling for the spot again. “All right?”

   Dean managed a “yeah” in between deep breaths; aside from feeling strange, it was making him feel vulnerable. Cas brushed his prostate again and Dean could feel his walls relax, although his rim clenched around Cas' fingers, holding them in place.

   He patiently attended to his prostate, while still stroking his now-leaking cock. Dean slowly relaxed into the feeling, although the uncomfortable emotional state remained. “Want more?” Cas crooned, stroking the spot with different pressures to test his response. This was something Dean liked to do to him, and he hoped Dean would like it done to him, too.

   In between pants, Dean answered “Too much…”

   “You want me to stop?” Dean nodded even as the drag of fingers over his prostate caused him to let out a moan. Cas withdrew the fingers and pumped his hand faster, watching in fascination at the way he gripped the sheets and bunched his shoulders as he came. He slowly sunk down on his stomach afterwards and Cas looked around. He spotted the towel and wiped his hands dry, realizing Dean needed him to stay. With a different corner of the towel, he wiped Dean clean, and then lay down next to him.

   “How was it?” he asked, stroking Dean’s back.

   “Did you feel…? Nevermind.”

   “No, tell me. What?”

   “Vulnerable?” he asked, embarrassed.

   “Of course. But I wanted to share that with you. I wanted to be okay feeling that because of you. That’s… why it took me so long.” Cas looked fairly embarrassed at this admission, but tried to smile anyway. Dean nodded and curled up against Cas, his breathing evening out as he drifted off to sleep. Cas kissed the top of his head, and tightened his arm around him. He turned the lamp off.

                                                                                                _______

   The next day, Dean sat down at the kitchen table and his eyes widened. He bit the inside of his cheek to avoid crying out and sucked in a deep breath. Luckily Sam was getting coffee and therefore noticed none of this. He chewed on his toast thoughtfully, and tried to ignore the burning ache he felt…

   “What am I supposed to do, Cas? Just not sit down?” Cas looked back at his hyperbolizing boyfriend.

   With a shrug, he replied, “You get used to it.”

   Dean swore under his breath and carefully sat down on his bed. “We’ll have to pick this up tomorrow,” he stated, gesturing to the lube on the nightstand. Cas nodded and the two slept in each other’s arms.

 

   Much like they’d done with Cas, “practicing” with Dean was a gradual process, one that spanned months. However unlike Cas, Dean voiced his discomfort – often. After a particularly vigorous session, Dean lay on the bed on his side: “Geez, why even work up to sex? I’m already sore and feel like shit. How do you _ask_ me for this?”

   “It’s not getting better?” Cas asked, drawing him up into his arms.

   “I guess… physically. But I feel raw.” He refused to meet Cas’ eyes, even though his warm gaze was focused on his freckled face.

   “There’s no rush, Dean. I love you.” He nuzzled against Cas’ neck and hugged him tighter.

                                                                                       _____

   Dean was careful for weeks; neither Sam nor Kevin figured out what the two had been up to. After all, he was still fucking Cas senseless and acting like his usual jerky self. He made breakfast in the morning, struggled with research in the afternoon, and taught Cas to cook at night. So when one morning Cas asked him if he was all right, he wasn’t expecting it. Sam was at the coffee pot but could hear them as he stirred milk into his coffee. “Not _now_ ,” Dean growled.

   Sam sat down at the table and added, “You know Dean hates talking about his feelings.” He chuckled, and took a sip of coffee.

   “This has nothing to do with emotions,” Castiel responded, and Dean kicked him under the table. He glared, but was blissfully silent after that. Sam eyed the two suspiciously, but went back to his coffee…

 

   “Cas, what the hell?”

   “Your anger over my concern is confusing,” he replied, perched on the edge of Dean’s bed.

   “Look,” he started, lowering his voice and getting close, “I’m glad you’re concerned. But I don’t need you talking about our sex life in front of Sam or Kevin. It was my idea to switch originally – I’m cool with that. But I’m _not_ cool with Sammy knowing about it. It’s private.”

   “Okay,” Cas agreed, slowly. He didn’t understand really, but decided to address the point when Dean was less agitated.

   A few more weeks passed, and Dean was finally beginning to get comfortable. “How do you feel?” Cas asked, rubbing Dean’s forearms soothingly.

   “Better,” Dean admitted, and curled up tighter against Cas’ front, while Cas spooned him.

   “Good,” he responded, kissing behind his ear.

                                                                                             _________


	3. Not an Apple pie Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean opens up to Cas about what life was like with John Winchester. It wasn't pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please refer to the updated tags for any triggers / warnings.  
> I broke up this chapter so anyone that's triggered by references to homophobia or abuse can skip it.

   Sometimes the two just weren’t on the same wave-length. Dean came in from a hunt to have Cas hanging all over him, pawing at his torn flannel shirt. He shrugged his shoulders, trying to shake him off. “God damn it, Cas! _Get off of me_!”

   “Dean – I would thank you to leave my Father out of this.” His tone was stern, but he still eyed Dean lasciviously, his eyes darting from Dean to the bed, and back again.

   “Sam and I just bagged a Rugaru. All I need is to take a shower and pass out.”

   Cas got in close again, and began rubbing him over his jeans. He kissed Dean’s neck and Dean sighed in spite of himself. “Look, I like you Cas, but _not tonight_. I’m sore and bloody. The LAST thing I want right now is to get down on my haunches while you finger me for an hour.”

   That finally seemed to do it; Cas apologized and backed off. When Dean crawled into his bed that night, Cas was already asleep, curled around a pillow that still smelled faintly like Dean. He pressed up against the former-angel’s back, kissing an apology onto his neck. Sometimes, he just needed his space.

                                                                            ___

   Other times, Dean was more receptive to Cas’ attention. Occasionally, he even felt like _sharing_. Dean leaned back against the headboard, his fingers brushing Cas' forearm gently. “Cas, can I talk to you about something?”

   Cas put the 'Nancy Drew' book down on his nightstand and turned his attention fully to Dean. “Of course, Dean. What’s up?” Cas tried out the phrase, sounding incredibly awkward. But the look on his face was priceless, and Dean laughed, the knot of tension in his shoulders easing.

   “I wanted to know if you knew the full extent pulling me out of hell had on me… mentally.”

   “I knew you felt unworthy, but beyond that…” Cas just shrugged, his gaze fixed on Dean’s.

   “I’m telling you this so you can understand me, the things I’ve done, better. When you brought me back, I had all my memories. But everything else permanent – the mental blocks, the defense mechanisms – they were just _gone_. So what I’d done in the past… things I’d dealt with, or locked away, were back full-force. Sure, attaching ‘love’ to Sam or Bobby wasn’t a hard concept, but all that horrible shit from my childhood had to be handled.”

   He stopped to clear his throat. “I had to re-learn how to deal. That’s why I spent so long feeling worthless and empty – the pain was just _too_ _much_. In a way, you helped me, heh." He smiled sadly, his thoughts clearly elsewhere for a second.

   "If I hadn’t worked through my memories of dad’s homophobic ‘lessons’, I would’ve believed it again. And I woulda never had the balls to imagine you might feel the same way about me.”

   Cas knew this sort of thing happened very rarely. He had to choose his words carefully, fearing the very worst: “When you say ‘lessons,’ what do you mean?”

   “At first it was shitty comments about people being ‘fags’. But then I got older, and he seemed driven to make sure we were men. Not just hunting but the drill sergeant thing; I called him ‘sir’, kept my hair short, didn’t step a toe out of line. I did everything he told me, because ‘in the hunter’s world, there’s no room for pretty boys.’ Right before Sam left for college, he tried to do the same thing to him: he actually shaved his head while he was sleeping, and yelled when Sam would act ‘too touchy’.” He smiled at the memory of his cue-ball brother; Sam looked hilarious without hair.

   “Not that I’d ever admit it to him, but Sam got off kinda easy; one impromptu haircut and screaming matches didn’t really justify their grudge to me. But uh, after Sammy left it got worse: sure, he’d been smacking me around for acting up since I was sixteen – I was... _used_ to that. But then the ‘intensive training’ started. He taught me how to resist water-boarding, how to fight in sensory deprivation conditions, and how to track basically everything." It was hard for Dean to get out, even Cas could see that. Cas supposed that explained Dean's minor freak-out at the lake some months ago: Cas had tried to dunk him and Dean pushed him off, looking at him like he was going to kill him.

"I-I’m not sayin’ it wasn’t _useful_ or that I _didn’t_ need to know it. But just like in the military, he ‘broke’ me. And when he built me back up into a soldier, he forgot that element - of care. He always said actions spoke louder than words, but he still told Sam he loved him. I… never got that.” Dean’s eyes were glassy and his jaw trembled, but he held Castiel’s gaze.

   Cas reached out and drew him in for a hug. They sat there just clinging to each other for a long time, Cas’ stubbled jaw against his shoulder somehow grounding him. Eventually, they pulled apart.

   “Thank you, Dean.” _For telling me this, for_ _trusting me._

   They joined hands and lay there in a comfortable silence.

                                                                                                            _______


	4. Trust, another word for love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Dean is referencing a Rihanna song. I figured he might occasionally hear current music, even on accident.

   The next afternoon after lunch, Cas cornered Sam in the library. “I need you out.”

   “Why?” Sam asked, still not used to the unwavering gaze thing he did; after all, it was usually fixed on Dean.

   “Go to a bar tonight and take Kevin with you. I don't care what you do, just leave.” His tone was stern but his eyes held uncertainty.

 _“Why?”_ he asked again, not sure Cas had even heard him.

   “I… can’t tell you.”

   “Is it a sex thing?” Cas nodded and Sam laughed.

   “Sure. All you had to do was ask, man. Just don’t do it in the living room, all right?” He gave him an annoyed look and as he walked away he heard Sam call, _“Don’t forget the safe word!”_

 

   “Dean, what’s a ‘safe word’?”

   He nearly spit out his beer and steered them into Cas’ room, closing the door behind him. “Where’d you hear that?”

   “Sam,” he replied, nonplussed.

   “It’s a word you say when you want something to stop. It’s usually an S&M thing.”

   “S&M…” Cas repeated, looking thoughtfully at a point just beyond Dean’s shoulder.

   “You know, _‘sticks_ _and stones may break my bones/ but chains and whips excite me’_.”

   “Chains and whips excite you?” Cas asked surprised. He figured after his time in hell that would be the _last_ thing Dean would like.

   “No. It’s… this pop song I got stuck in my head. What I get for listening to the radio, I guess. Anyway, it’s handcuffs and stuff like that, in bed. I’d show you porn to clarify, but all that comes up is pretty… extreme.”

   “Oh… So, we don’t need one?”

   “Not unless you want me to start tying you up.” Cas laughed and it warmed Dean’s heart. Cas rarely laughed these days – he smiled, sure, but it was always a small, sleepy one or a sad, wavering one. Dean leaned in and kissed Cas hard.

 

   Later that night, the bunker was so quiet it was unnerving. “Where is everyone?” Dean asked, plating up burgers.

   “Sam said he was taking Kevin to a bar.”

   “Oh yeah?” he responded, then added, “Maybe they’ll get laid, be less of a drag.”

   Cas smiled and sipped on a beer. They ate in peace, and then caught a re-run of “Los Preciosos y Fabulosos.” As the last chords of flamenco guitar drifted from the TV, Cas turned to Dean. “Dean?”

   “What’s up?”

   “Well, we’re _completely_ alone. I was wondering if tonight, we could..?” He trailed off, but looked suggestively at him. Dean finished his beer and got up, beckoning for Cas to follow. They went to Dean’s room, and he locked the door behind them.

   “ _You planned this_ ,” he accused, closing the distance between the two.

   “I _may_ have threatened your brother, yes.”

   Dean’s eyes lit up in laughter, and his lips quirked into a smile. “You’re awesome,” he replied, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist.

   They kissed feverishly, stripping one another with practiced skill. Despite this, as the full weight of the situation dawned upon Dean, he trembled under Cas’ touch. Cas noticed the change and murmured against his neck, “All right, Dean?”

   He took a deep breath and replied, “I can’t believe I’m saying this but… go easy on me.”

   Cas kissed his earlobe, responding “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” Aside from feeling like he was stuck in a romance novel, Dean relaxed.

   Once they’d divested completely they climbed under the covers, touching each other all over. When the pads of his calloused fingers brushed Cas’ nipples, he arched up into the feeling, letting out a little moan. Cas let him take the lead, knowing the routine soothed Dean. On the other hand, although touching Cas calmed him, Dean was hyper-aware of every touch he felt. He kissed along Cas’ neck, slotting their erections together.

   The haze of arousal affected them both and Cas’ kisses became deeper, his touches more demanding. The two were becoming lost in overwhelming need, their erections hanging heavy between their legs. Cas nuzzled against Dean’s ear murmuring, “Turn over.”

   His heart sped up, trepidation palpable as he flipped himself onto his stomach. He soon felt hands on his back, kneading the tension from his shoulders. The feeling of Cas’ strong fingers gripping and working his stiff muscles was something he hadn’t even known he’d needed until now. He relaxed into the feeling, content to let Cas kiss and touch him for as long as possible.

   As Cas worked his hands lower he straddled the back of Dean’s thighs, and Dean felt a slight tickle as Cas' balls dragged against the sensitive skin there. As Cas shifted down to work out a particularly bad kink, he felt Cas’ erection brush along the cleft of his ass. His cock gave a throb against the mattress and he felt himself bucking backwards. Something shifted in his mind, and he moaned needily into his pillow. Cas gave a low groan and brushed against him again, kissing between his shoulder blades.

   He shifted back, parting Dean’s legs to kneel between them. He leaned forward, grabbed Dean over his hand-print scar and pulled him back. Dean’s heart raced when the two connected; it was something that had always happened when Cas was an angel, some transfer of energy between the two. Now, even though Cas was human, Dean’s body had been conditioned to react to the action.

   Cas shifted his other hand under his body to move the blonde into position. With Dean on his hands and knees, Cas reached for the bottle he’d stashed at the foot of the bed. The loose, sleepy feeling Dean had from the massage was being edged out by the hum of anticipation in the air. Dean licked his lips, breathy shaky as he waited. Cas brushed a lubed fingertip against his hole, stroking against the entrance. He took Dean’s cock in his other hand and stroked slowly.

   He continued this for several minutes, showing no loss of patience as Dean’s hips thrust forward weakly. Dean felt himself relax and Cas eased a finger in. He moved his hand from Dean’s leaking cock to rub along the swell of his cheek and slowly moved, crooking his finger to find the spot. As Cas worked him open, he brushed over the area. Dean shuddered, his cock twitching.

   “Okay?” Cas asked, a sort of code between the two; Dean had soon realized he didn’t like being asked “more” or saying it. He said it made him feel “like a cock-starved whore”. So Cas asked this instead, and Dean nodded his head.

   More lube and Cas worked the digit back in, a second soon joining it. Dean began to feel the dull burn of being stretched and as if sensing this Cas reached forward again, gripping his cock. After months of practicing, Cas knew exactly how to touch Dean to ease him open. Two fingers gradually became three and Dean shifted back into it, the hand that had been on his cock now holding his cheeks apart.

   Dean felt so _full_ , he wasn’t sure if he could handle any more. As Cas’ fingers brushed his prostate again, however, a sentence left his mouth: “Fuck me or make me cum, Cas. This is torture.”

   He shifted forward balancing on one hand as he pulled a magnum from the nightstand, before he tossed it back behind him. He shifted down onto his elbows, fingers gripping a pillow his arms had caged in. He arched his back and spread his legs wider, concentrating on the feeling of his cock heavy between his legs as Cas withdrew his fingers. He heard the pop of the lube cap and the tear of the condom foil, but tried his best to keep his breathing even. He felt anxiety well up in his throat as he heard the snap of the condom and the slick of more lube against his hole. Cas ran his cock along the cleft of his ass before lining himself up at his entrance. He wrapped a hand around Dean’s hip to steady him. Meanwhile, Dean breathed slowly, deeply, eyes closed to center himself.

   “Ready?” Cas asked, his voice low and needy.

   Dean nodded in response and no sooner had his head stopped moving Cas pushed in. He groaned loudly, unable to keep the sound in. Cas moved his hand from the base of his own cock to Dean’s ass cheek, stroking the swell gently. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern winning over the urge to plow into the tight blonde under him.

   “Yeah,” he managed between pants. Cas moved again, his hands now both curled around Dean’s hips. When he’d drove in to the hilt, he stilled again. He shifted his upper body forward, intent on stroking him back to full hardness.

   “I’ll stay still until you tell me, Dean.” What he silently added, what both understood was “ _you are completely in control_.”

   “ _Wait_ ,” was all Dean could manage in response. His arms trembled and he gripped his pillow tighter, breath shallow. He knew Cas was trying as hard as he could, but the feeling was too much: Cas’ thick cock throbbed in Dean’s hole, threatening to break him apart.

   He shifted slightly, pulling on Dean’s balls to relieve some of the tension as his leaking cock now curled against his stomach. He felt Cas’ five o’clock shadow brush his lower back as he was stroked, and it sent a prickle of pleasure up along his skin.

   Cas worked unselfishly, kissing along Dean’s freckled skin and stroking him with no thought to his own pleasure. As this thought occurred to Dean he said, voice husky from arousal, “Go.”

   He shifted back, his hands on Dean’s hips once again. So slowly Dean wasn’t even sure if he was moving Cas pulled back, a hitched breath issuing from plush lips. He pushed into the tight heat in one stroke, eliciting a groan from the two.

   “ _So… good_ ,” Cas breathed out lustily.

   As he moved, Dean began to relax: he could do this; Cas wasn’t going to break him. He shifted, hoping Cas’ cock would brush his prostate. Cas moved, opting for short, probing thrusts. He shifted back into place, thinking maybe he wasn’t sensitive enough to feel it this way. However, just as he’d given up, the head of Cas’ cock pushed against it.

   “Cas,” he moaned out needily, his cock jerking against his stomach.

   He felt Dean clench around him and whispered a _“Fuck,”_ hands now holding his cheeks apart as he watched his cock disappear between them. He did it again, listening to the little needy sounds Dean was being reduced to. Dean was so _tight_ and _responsive_ that it was going to take ever fiber of his being to keep his word to be gentle.

   The feeling was so strange: as Cas angled for his prostate, Dean would clench around his cock, drawing it in. As the head made contact with his sweet spot, he’d clench harder, holding Cas in place. The feeling of Cas pushed up against his prostate, his cock throbbing against that bundle of nerves was driving him crazy. And the more he thought about it – what they were _doing_ , what Cas was doing _to_ him – the more he felt his balls draw up against his body, full.

   The unbearable stretch had become easier to take as he opened up, his iron-grip on the pillow relaxing. Dean began to feel the first wave of pleasure coursing up into his core. It always startled him, getting off like this. He was so used to the localized ache in his balls right before he came that it starting anywhere else was strange, foreign.

   “ _Unghh_ ,” Dean groaned, so on edge already. Cas was murmuring something to him, but his head was foggy as Cas brushed the spot again.

   “I’m close,” Cas repeated, his voice straining from self-control.

   “ _Cas_ ,” he groaned again, before his orgasm tore through him. Waves of pleasure wracked his body as his hips stilled, his throbbing cock striping the sheet below him. He moaned as he came, mostly incoherent nonsense between breathy gasps. As the waves of pleasure began to ebb his arms and legs started to shake from exhaustion.

   “ _Dean!_ ” Cas shouted. His lips formed the word over and over again as he came. His own knees threatened to give out on him as he shook, gripping Dean’s hips tight. He finally stilled, panting hard. It was hard for Cas to come down after that but once he’d managed to pull out, he yanked the sticky top sheet off the bed.

   Dean let himself collapse after that, curling onto his side. Cas lay down facing him, a sheen of sweat across his chest catching the light of the lamp. “Just need… a minute,” he replied breathless. Dean just nodded, his lips bitten red and skin looking like it was lit from within.

   Cas was awestruck and reached a hand out, cupping Dean’s cheek gently. Dean stared back at him, wide-eyed. _Vulnerable_ , Cas thought, his first time actually seeing it. “You’re so beautiful,” he remarked, and a blush crept onto Dean’s cheeks.

   “Men aren’t beautiful,” he replied, although his lips had curled into a smile.

   “Handsome,” Cas retorted, “as a word fails.” He licked his lips and dove in, catching those bitten ones between his own. He pulled back, catching the need in Dean’s eyes. “I love you, Dean.” Cas stroked his cheek, a smile forming on his lips.

   Dean looked away as if searching. “I…” he started and stopped, his voice breaking.

   His eyes met Castiel’s again and his jaw trembled for a moment before he tried again. He licked his lips and replied, “I love you too, Cas.”

   In that instant, it was if all of the air had been sucked out of the room. Blue eyes widened in surprise, then crinkled as Cas smiled. He pulled Dean in for a kiss, then drew back to kiss his forehead. As his lips broke away from skin, he leaned back and clicked off the bedside lamp, shrouding them in darkness. He reached forward again, his hand finding Dean’s. He twined their fingers together and soon, they’d both fallen asleep.

                                                                                          ______________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: I hope you enjoyed this! Please comment and/or kudos to let me know what worked and what didn't.  
> This is part 3 of 4 of the series. Part 4 probably won't be written until fall term at the earliest. It's going to be an angsty-Cas / plotty mess.
> 
> In the meantime, please subscribe to me as an author if you'd like to see the one-shots I'll inevitably be posting.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


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